


Liberty

by Teland



Series: Other Paths [5]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: 1998, Let's Talk About My Exes!, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-09-12
Updated: 1998-09-12
Packaged: 2020-11-27 12:51:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20948633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: Closure.





	Liberty

Alex Krycek stood in the familiar hallway, and watched the   
familiar door. Two-thirty a.m. and the bluish, strobic   
flash of the television was perfectly clear under the   
door. 

//I hate the flickering lights, Alex.

//So... why? Every night?

//It's familiar...//

Of course. Of course. This was a dangerous place for him to   
be. However, that in itself was nothing new. Once, not so   
long ago, he'd thought that might change. Mulder wanted   
him, knew he wanted him, *and* admitted he wanted him. On   
his knees. On his back. To his face. And, God, it was good   
to take that mobile mouth beneath his own, catch hold of   
another man's -- *this* man's -- slick heat and whisper of   
anything, anything. 

//It wasn't supposed to be this way.//

Alex snorted at himself, but came no closer to the door   
that made up the breadth and scope of his vision. For a   
moment, he looked inside himself, sketched an approximation   
of the image he made. Just a man, against a wall, staring   
at a door. Target. Mark.

There was that first night.... Not the first night they'd   
fucked, though. That had been all groans and stifled howls   
in some anonymous warehouse. A stockpile of dinge and   
uselessness. No, the night *after* that one was supposed to   
have been the example. He'd come here, led by the taste of   
need, by that light, unbearable itch along his palate where   
Mulder's cock belonged. Oh, yeah. There was no possible   
chance to be smart, stay away at least a little while...   
He'd come right here, and he'd stood right where he was   
standing now...

Mulder had opened the door after -- maybe -- thirty   
seconds. 

//I was listening for footsteps...//

Stood there in grey boxer briefs that outlined a bulge that   
called his name even more effectively than the flat, darkly   
needful "please..." that had pulled him across the hall,   
pulled him into lean arms and a kiss and he'd been on his   
knees almost before the door was closed behind them.

After, and after again, Alex had cuddled close and the   
hands that had brushed him away were easily definable as   
playful. The stiffening.... Well, they'd hardly had time   
to grow accustomed to each other. And Mulder had asked him   
meaningless questions and they'd talked and touched --   
slightly -- until the incessant morning coo of some air-rat   
had made Alex grab for his gun. And Mulder's simple,   
joyful laugh had... had...

//This is pointless.//

Alex shifted in his jacket in a manner he knew would   
probably be imperceptible to most. He wanted to leave,   
disappear and never come back here, ever. Mistakes were to   
be buried. But he couldn't just shoot Mulder, no matter how   
much appeal the idea had. 

//Just *do* it, Alex... C'mon, fuck me--

//You're not relax--

//At least I can feel you...//

There was always more business to be conducted, and Alex   
needed that thin coating of legitimacy Mulder retained.   
Stupid and messy to have done this. He had a moment to   
appreciate the absurdity of trying to solve as mundane a   
bit of a snarl as the Failed Sexual Relationship With Co-  
Worker.

//Take what you want. And pay for it.//

He'd learned how to patch gunshot wounds with one arm. He   
could take out 5 of 6 moving targets with one high powered   
rifle on a rainy day. And the sixth would, most assuredly,   
tell him everything he needed to know. 

He'd never had to fix anything like this before.... but   
there was Walter to be considered. 

//Walter knew, and Walter never mocked, and Walter was   
gentle.

//Who are you trying to convince?//

Walter Skinner and he supposed there was an inevitability   
to that one. If not an inevitability, then, perhaps, just   
a simple rightness to the oddity. There were times when   
Alex wondered if there had ever been a time when their   
lives weren't brushing in some way, however quietly.   
Walter had asked him to lie to him that first night, and   
he'd been as scrupulous as possible in that.... The   
thought made him smile. He'd have to ask when the older   
man had started appreciating the bits of honesty he'd   
started tossing in, here and there.

No, he'd be honest with himself, in this. There was   
something about all that blunt alpha maleness that inspired   
a bit of chesting up.... And he'd never felt imaginative   
enough to make up stories more shamelessly macho than some   
of the things he'd really had to do. Though he could, and   
did, embellish. There really wasn't anything like making   
an Easter Island idol smile. You could make mortar with   
all the stone dust that drifted to the ground, dance to   
the creaks....

This was rapidly growing even stupider. But he wanted

//a little quiet//

Walter, and Walter wanted him to end it with Mulder. 

//Do you want me to come with you?

//I'm not some... some...//

And Walter had reached out. Grabbed his arm and Alex   
couldn't keep the anger out of his eyes that time, but that   
was just fine because Walter couldn't keep the anything   
out of those liquid bits of chocolate and, yeah, he   
understood. 

So here he was. Alex crossed the narrow hall, finally. The   
door swung open on the second knock. Mulder had been   
standing right there. Of course. Perfectly executed   
sprawl, blocking the doorframe. Alex could push him aside,   
back away, or just continue to stand much too close.   
Anything but be comfortable. 

"I wondered how long you were just going to stand there,   
Krycek."

It was always easier to take a slap when you knew it was   
coming, so Alex just cocked his head a bit. "We need to   
talk, Mulder."

"Do we?"

Alex closed his eyes, opened them far too slowly to be able   
to play the action off as a blink. It was, of course, only   
reasonable that this encounter be just as ugly as   
everything else.

"Yes."

"When were you planning to tell me about Skinner?"

//Jesus, it's only been a few days...//

He could feel his mouth tightening. "Skinner has nothing to   
do with this."

Mulder snorted, turned his back and made his way into the   
dark apartment. Flopped on the couch and set one foot on   
the coffee table. Alex stood in the doorway and watched the   
performance of casual for a long moment before forcing   
himself inside. The place smelled, as always, of dust and   
the man himself. Once it made him ache to hold and touch   
and slide sweat-hot along Mulder's body...

There was something cold, and very hard, tightening around   
his belly. He closed the door behind him, a comfort to have   
something real to touch. 

"What do you want, Krycek?"

Mulder didn't even bother to look at him. 

"I just... we need..." He trailed off, unable to spout any   
of the cliched inanities the situation seemed to dredge   
from the depths of his mind. "We can't do this any more,   
Mulder."

"You're dumping me, Krycek?" Deceptively flat.

Alex's turn to look away. "We still have work to do,   
Mulder."

"Get out."

"Muld--"

"Just get out, Krycek. Everyone leaves, anyway. I have no   
fucking clue why I expected you to be any different."

His gut twisted, and Alex was abruptly angry. "That's what   
you tell all of them, isn't it?"

"Why are you still here?"

"Do you have any idea what you--"

"Get out of my apartment right. Now."

"Oh, I'll leave, Mulder. I'm just curious -- what are you   
gonna tell the next poor bastard you let touch you, hunh?   
Same thing you told me? Breathy little whisper: 'Sometimes   
I think I've been alone my whole life, Alex.... Everyone   
always leaves,' isn't that it?"

The eyes burned in the uneven blue-grey light, but the   
mouth was set, the lean body static in its calculated   
sprawl.

"I don't know, *Alex*. Somehow, I think a simple 'my lover   
dumped me for my fucking *boss*,' would suffice." 

"Your lover." Alex heard the roughness in his voice, but he   
couldn't do a thing about it. "You just go on thinking   
that's what I was to you. Maybe the next stupid   
sonofabitch might believe you when you call *him* that."

"When did this get to be about you, Alex? You're not   
allowed to bitch at this point. Just get the hell out and   
go back to Daddy."

Alex bit his tongue, gave himself a moment to savor the   
vicious warmth, and left. Behind him, some anonymous   
infomercial blared about the wonders of some anonymous bit   
of plastic trash.

Everything has its price.

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~


End file.
